


IN AETERNUM

by saltedearthsch



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, based on an idea from twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 16:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21274274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltedearthsch/pseuds/saltedearthsch
Summary: "bad end"or: g'raha's grief knows no bounds





	IN AETERNUM

**Author's Note:**

> this is an idea based on a piece of art/twitter thread by surfacage
> 
> i'm sorry in advance for the angst but also enjoy your suffering suckers ;3

The expressions on their faces tell him everything without saying a word; twisted by pain, marred by grief, dark with anger. Reflections of the emotions that flood him as his stomach drops through the broken cliff they stand on. The shadows threaten to swallow him whole, echoing with the malevolent howling of  _ his  _ laughter. The sound turns numbness to bittersweet rage in him.

Was it not Emet-Selch who had stood and watched as she slowly weakened herself for him? Had he not lured her into his illusion of a city just to take advantage of that weakness? Used her kind heart and sympathetic ear to bend her to his will? How dare he rejoice!

_ No,  _ his heart whispered,  _ you did those things. Used her, watched her die, put your hopes on her and did nothing as she grew weaker beneath the burden every passing day. It is not his fault she perished, but yours. _

“Where is she?” G’raha ground out, throat raw with his anguish. He knew the answer, and surely they guessed he did, but Y’shtola still raised her sightless eyes to his and gave him the answer, nay the confirmation.

“She tried so hard… Until the very end. For you… For all of us.” Fingers clenched around the Allagan staff in his hand, the metal warm and grounding to his touch. The familiarity allowed him to focus on the task before him, pulled his thoughts from the swirling pool of despair that loomed. When he looked up, the Scions were regarding him each with their own measure of curiosity.

Behind, or rather all around them, Hades was finishing his gloat at his opponent’s defeat, and beginning to refocus on them. He would do it then. Take his end as he had intended, but in a rather different manner. This time, he would go as she had - with a fight. Turning his back on the group, he took several measured steps until he could glare into that void-filled red mask.

“HADES!” G’raha slammed the end of his staff into the ground to get the being’s attention. It worked, the darkness seeming to shift as it  _ looked  _ at him. The feeling of being so completely stripped down and examined made his skin crawl, but he stood fast. “Your grand plots end here! Though you have overcome the best of us, you will not leave this place.”

Booming laughter encompassed them again, shaking the air and earth around them. The darkness swirled and collapsed in on itself as Hades drew himself closer to the Mystel man. 

“You think you can succeed where your precious Hero of Light has failed? When I hoped for entertainment, I did not expect to be rewarded.” Pulling back, the pure, oppressive chill of the Ascian’s dark aether pressed itself upon them. “I will not be undone by a merry band of frail, misshapen souls! This fool’s errand ends here!”

G’raha paid the incredulous ramblings no mind. Since his declaration, he had replaced the version of himself stood in Amaurot with a mere shade. The moment his feet touched the floor of the Occular, he redirected his energy into channeling the aether of the Tower. Restored to his place within it, reaching out for the power it held was mere child’s play. A simple flick of his thoughts in the right direction and the aether sang through his body. It threatened to tear apart his skin, reduce his form to naught but Light with the sheer magnitude of it. But it was the Tower too which held him together, made him yet another conduit of its power. He just hoped it would be enough.

Through the eyes of his shade, he could see Hades preparing to wipe them all from where they stood, gathering a mass of dark energy to do so. Reaching out, G’raha raised a shield around himself and the other Scions, his attention still on the most dangerous and reckless task he would ever complete.

As he focused, it was impossible to keep his thoughts from straying to  _ her _ ; his friend, his idol, his… His heart twinged, and the tears began before he could stop them. His focus slipped once more toward that whirlpool of rage and sorrow, and without his will it leaked into his magic. Yet it fueled him, allowed him to pull yet more aether into his being, forcing it to take shape and bend to his will. 

His desires manifested themselves, becoming a corporeal form of the need to protect, to defeat, to at last bring peace the way she could not. To become what he must, to complete the task she could not.

When at last he could not seem to draw any more aether to him, he turned his thoughts to Hades, and watched as the shining blade of the Warrior of Light came crashing down on the Ascian’s mask before rending him completely…

* * *

Footsteps sounded up the steps of the Dossal Gate, bringing their owner face to face with the Crystarium’s guard captain. Lyna stared down at the visitor and sighed, shaking her head.

“He is not permitting anyone to enter,” she informed, tone clipped. The young Elezen glared at her, gesturing to the door behind the Vii.

“You know exactly what he’s hiding in there, and you’re helping him?” Alisaie demanded. Her rage more than made up for the height difference between them as she snapped, “Let me through! I need to speak with him!”

“And you will get the same answer you did last week: he is not seeing anyone, and that includes you. The danger is contained so long as he remains within those walls. To disregard his wishes would be foolish along with disrespectful.”

“You think I give a twit about disrespect? After what he did? He does not deserve it! I ought to--”

“To leave now, before I have you removed myself. You may be a Scion, Lady Alisaie, but you do not command me. Now leave, or I will resort to force. Just as last time.” A long silence stretched as the women glared at each other, their hands inching towards weapons. This song and dance had continued for the last two months, and Lyna was tired. She did not truly wish to stand in opposition to the Warrior of Darkness’ companions any longer, but orders were orders. She would fulfill her duty now, as she always had.

“Fine,” Alisaie finally snapped, surprising her. “But tell him that one day he will have to answer to more than Hydaelyn for his crimes. He may not be in his right mind, but he can still be judged.” As she stormed down the steps, the Viis captain sighed.

“Somehow, I do not think Hydaelyn will punish him.”

* * *

From his spot at the mirror of the Occular, the Crystal Exarch watched the exchange between his guard and the Scion. Guilt riddled his being, knowing what he was forcing Lyna to do, knowing that Alisaie and her company were correct to seek action against him. Long had he kept the company of the Warrior on his own world, becoming familiar with the purpose of her journey and its reasons. Yet in trying to avenge her, he had gone against all of them, shattering those values with grandiose abandon.

He felt the shift in the room’s aether before he heard the sound of her feet on the floor. A bittersweet contradiction rose in him at the knowledge that she was in the room. Joy in her presence always kept close grief and guilt. Dismissing the image in the mirror, he turned to face her.

Ary’al Sabrae had been a fierce but caring Viera woman, almost as quick to smile as she was to draw her sword against any who opposed her. The Warrior of Light and Darkness both, she had stood against countless villains and catastrophes, striving always to keep as many as she could safe from harm. The Light of Hydaelyn’s Blessing had lent her a nigh on physical glow, a mark of the warmth her spirit had brought to all those around her.

This being, however, though it wore her face, was not her. It was made of Light, surely, but lacked the warmth and heart of his beloved. Formed in a crucible of conflict, she did not exist to live as Ary’al had. Though the chaotic nature within her that fueled most primals seemed subdued by the will that had brought her to exist, she lacked the empathy to truly  _ be. _

Even so, he could not deny the simple thrill that having her beside him again lent him. To stand in her presence was to know happiness and bliss alike. Every smile or gesture filled his heart, wiping away the emptiness and grief that took over when she was away. Now, she slid arms about his shoulders, her chin resting on his head to glance curiously at the mirror.

“What are you watching so fervently, G’raha?” Her voice is honeyed but there is a sharp accusation belied by it:  _ what are you watching when I am here?  _ Ignoring the unvoiced inquiry, he smiles, and places his hands over her arms to hold them there. For now, he will bask in the illusion presented by her form.

“Nothing of interest.” Golden eyes meet his, threatening to pull him in, and he catches himself staring for just a bit too long. If the easy smile on her lips is any indication, she does not mind in the least. The attention fuels her, he knows, just as it does all being like her. And she only truly seeks him out like this when she desires the worship he will undoubtedly deliver to her. He is the only one who can give it, when it is just the two of them trapped inside the Allagan walls. And he is ever weak in the face of her will (though it was his that brought her into being). The knowledge that he would give her the entirety of The First and every reflection if she asked is a mere pinprick of pain on the path of adoring her.

“Liar.” The accusation is weak, a teasing test to pry a truth unneeded from him. Rather than press further, she slides her fingers beneath his cowl, pushing it away from his face. The reveal makes him flinch, but his nerves are soothed instantly as her hand slides across his features, lingering on the crystalline tears set into his cheeks. 

“I have a proposal, G’raha Tia.” He hates the way his pulse races at the dip in her tone, at the way she steps infinitesimally closer. Yet he knew when brought her into being that he would never stand against her power. Just as in life, so now in this form of existence, she has always held rent him pliable as willow.

“What would that be?” The smirk is unmistakable, the fire in her eyes hypnotic as she leans in and her breath brushes his ear.

“Watch me instead.” A shudder runs through him that draws a chuckle from her. Red and cyan meet gold again, and he is only slightly out of breath when he answers her.

“For eternity, if you’ll let me.”

“For eternity,” she agrees, the words almost a purr, and G’raha knows that to save the world she died to protect, he has sold his soul to her instead.


End file.
